Changing Faces
by Skarla
Summary: HPNightworld crossover, will be slash. Circle Daybreak visit Hogwarts, Harry is a 'shifter, Draco a lamia, all sorts of madness will ensue! Review, pretty please?


Ok… first and foremost: THIS IS AU AND IT'S GONNA BE SLASH!!!

Second: This is a Harry Potter/Nightworld crossover. If you haven't read the Nightworld Chronicles, here's a quick summery:

There are Shapeshifters, who can turn into animals when they like, there are Witches, and there are lamia. Lamia are basically people whose parents are Vampires. A Vampire is someone who has been 'made', either by another Vampire or a lamia. (pronounced lay-me-ah) Lamia/Vamps can go out in daylight, and eat normal food, although it doesn't do anything for them. They prefer to wear glasses in sunlight, and new vampires are more sensitive to light. Lamia can pause their ageing for as long as they like, so vampire parents, so as not to worry their neighbors, would appear to be in their 30's, while the child looked by a teenager. But just as easily, they could all look the same age. Made Vamps stay the same age as they were when they were made. You cannot make anyone over 19 a vampire, cos their bodies can't take the change. You get the idea. They don't generally kill when they feed, and they can wipe the memory of the victim, as can witches. Witches and lamia tend to be a bit wary around Shapeshifters, for reasons explained in the 9th book, Witchlight.

  The Marauders were all shapeshifters (for the sake of the fic, James was a panther, not a stag. This is AU, ok?). Lily was a witch, descended from the Harmans through the female line. Everyone at Hogwarts has some witch blood. There are several lamia in Slytherin alone. Circle Midnight are less evil than the Death Eaters, but many of Circle Midnight agreed with Voldie.

IF YOU SKIPPED THE LONG BIT ABOVE, I SUGGEST YOU GO BACK AND READ IT, OTHERWISE YOU WILL BE THINKING 'HUH' WHEN YOU READ THE STORY! THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR MOST OF THE NIGHTWORLD BOOKS.

Everything has fallen to pieces

Everything had fallen to

We really need to see this through

We never wanted to be abused

We'll never give up

It's no use

If we're f**ked up, you're to blame

Blink 182, the anthem part 2.

 Harry Potter couldn't sleep. He lay in bed, staring at the red hangings, and trying to quell the feeling that something was trying to claw itself out of his mind. An alternate personality, bubbling up. He was never going to get to sleep.

  With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and dressed hurriedly in a pair of leather trousers. He slipped out of the dorm and paced silently down the stairs. Opening the portrait silently, he went softly around the corner and stopped. He let go.

  A feeling of lightness, and strength. Liquid energy. His muscles rippled, bones changing. His tail lashed out behind him. He had become a black jaguar: sleek, silent and strong. Not someone you would want to meet in a dark alley. Raising his head, he sniffed, once. Then he took off, down staircases, along dark corridors, until he reached fresh air.  As soon as he felt cool grass under his paws he sped up, sprinting over the moon-soaked lawns. He was free.

  From the top of the Astronomy Tower, a blond figure watched the sleek black shape as it flowed with effortless speed towards the forest. Wreathed in cigarette smoke, he leaned casually against the wall, resting his chin on his elbows, the cigarette held firmly between his teeth.

  "Interesting," he remarked.

  The next morning, Dumbledore noticed that both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy seemed thoughtful, and both had eyes shadowed from lack of sleep. But then, it was not his place to question what his students did in the small hours of the morning. For, although any student not in his bed by ten was punished, he knew that both students had gone to bed. It was not his concern what time they decided to rise, so long as it was before lessons started, at nine. Still, the rules did not stop him from wondering.

  As the hall was now full, he stood up and cleared his throat. Conversations stopped, and faces turned his way.

  "Good morning. I hope this day finds you well. I have had a message from the Joint Council, over in the USA. Apparently, the soulmate principal is back, and several Lamia and Witches have discovered this. Thierry, my good friend, has once again found his Hana, and other couples are manifesting themselves all over America. If you do not know who Thierry and Hana are, you should pay close attention in your next history lesson, as I have asked Professor Binns to cover it. The reason for this is simple: some of Circle Daybreak are visiting the school. They will be arriving this weekend. I hope you will show them what good witches and wizards you are. There will also be some shapeshifters visiting, Galen Drache of the First House of the shapeshifters, and his soulmate, Raksha Keller, who is a blood sister to Iliana, the witch child. I trust you all understand the importance of that. Now, please continue eating."

  Harry leaned over and asked Hermione "When do we next have history?"

  "We have it first," Hermione told him, looking excited.

  "I don't get it," Ron said. "What's a Lamia? And what's a shapeshifter?"

  "Honestly, Ron, you're a wizard!" Hermione hissed at him. "A Lamia is a vampire who has been born that way. They can have children. They're all descended from Maya Hearth-Woman."

  "As in Hellwise's sister?"

  "Yes! And Thierry was the second. It's complicated, I expect Binns will cover it much better than I will."

  "What about shapeshifters?" Ron asked, not noticing Harry stiffen.

  "They were around before Lamia. The early period of history, during which the 'shifters reigned, is quite dark. Bloody. Then came a big battle, and the Dragons made all the volcanoes erupt. But the witches managed to defeat them, and put them all to sleep, apart from the princess, who was only about three. The Royal House of the shapeshifters is descended from her."

  "Ron, I can't believe you don't know this. Hell, I know this!" Harry said, with a teasing grin.

  "I know most of it!" Ron said defensively. "I'd just forgotten, ok?"

  "Ok, I believe you.  Come on, let's get to history!" Harry said, standing up and making his way out of the hall.  At the same time as the trio reached the doorway, so did Malfoy. He and Harry stared at each other challengingly.

  "I suppose you're happy that the lower class will be joining us?" Malfoy asked, sneering.

  "What do you mean?" Harry demanded, surprised; Malfoy had been more bearable since Voldemort had been defeated.

  "The 'shifters," Draco drawled. "More lowlife for you to hang around with, along with your mudblood friends."

  "You shut you mouth," Ron snarled, his ears turning red. Hermione merely snorted.

  "Don't you know the meaning of what Dumbledore said?" she asked scornfully. "This Raksha Keller is bonded with the Witch Child. That means that us and the 'shifters are as close as this," she said, holding up her hands and interlocking her fingers.

  "Ah. That may be so, but I've heard of no alliance between the shapeshifters and the lamia," Malfoy said, before turning from them and leaving the hall. Harry and Ron stared after him in hatred; he was obviously reverting back to his old ways, the way he had been before the war. Hermione looked puzzled.

  "You don't suppose…" she started.

  "What?" Harry asked.

  "Well, I know it's far fetched, but could Malfoy be a lamia?"

  "How am I meant to know?" Harry asked. "Come on, or we'll be late."

  Binns started the class by floating through the door, for a change. The door was locked, but still, it was an effort. He floated to the front, and began his talk without even saying 'good morning', because he knew that most of the class was intensely curious as to what he was about to say.

  "All right, class. Some of the History of the Night World, abridged and edited version.

  "The Age of the Witches, the second age of this world. Maya, sister of Hellwise and daughter of Hectate, Queen of the witches wanted to live forever. She performed spells and so on, and was granted her wish. She turned into a Lamia.

  "She then made a boy of the clan into a vampire. Theorn, now known as Thierry Descouedres. Now, Thierry was destined to be an Old Soul, as was his Soulmate, Hana of the Three Rivers. Thierry ran from Maya, disgusted at what he had become. Hellwise could do nothing for him. He had never wanted to be a vampire.

  "Thierry travelled for days, and eventually came into the territory of Hana's tribe, who wanted to kill him. But she stopped them. That night, she tried to help him escape. But they were caught, and then Thierry was tortured."

  Professor Binns paused there, for effect, and stared round at the awestruck faces, all looking at him with total attention. It wasn't a sight he saw often.

  "Thierry killed nearly all of them. The last one he drained, he stopped before the end. It was Hana, his soulmate. Before she died, she forgave him, and made him promise never to kill again.

  "Thierry went to Hellwise, and asked to sleep until Hana's soul was re-born. She granted his wish; she had liked him, and she could do nothing else for him. Thierry did wake when Hana did, but through the ages, Maya has been killing Hana before her seventeenth birthday. She does so in Thierry's form, that is, she casts a glamour so that she looks like Thierry. Now, however, Maya has been killed, by Hannah, and they can be at peace. Hannah has decided to remain human, for now. This may change, in her next life, or she may simply change her mind.

  "Now, Dumbledore has asked me to tell you this. Hannah has a birthmark on her cheek, a psychic brand from when Thierry killed her the first time. You see, he brushed her cheek with his thumb, but his thumb was stained in blood, and Hana has carried that mark ever since."

  Harry's hand shot up.

  "Yes?"

  "Did Thierry ever kill again?" he asked.

  "No. Yes, Miss Brown?"

  "What does Hannah look like?" Lavender asked.

  "Tall, slim, blond, fair skin and the strawberry birthmark. Apparently this is the closest she has ever looked to her original form. Yes, Miss Patil?"

  "How did they know they were Soulmates?"   
  "You just know. It's like a silver cord between you. You can hear each other's thoughts," Hermione told her.

  "Correct, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now, turn to page three hundred and fifty two, the Goblin Rebellion of 182."

  The class groaned and sunk into it's usual stupor, as Binns began to drone as he usually did. As soon as they were all asleep, Binns sighed and stopped talking. Neville was snoring.

  "Sir?"

  Binns jumped. "Why are you still awake?"

  Harry grinned. "Do you always stop when we fall asleep?"

  Binns performed the ghost version of a blush, and floated over to Harry's desk.

  "You liked today, didn't you?"

  "Yes. I like witch history. And Lamia history is ok."

  "But not your own?"

  "It's a bit… violent."

  "Yes, but it's nothing to be ashamed of."

  "But we are ashamed, all of us. Treated as second class because of what our ancestors did. Maybe this new allegiance will change that."

  "I expect it will. You've been here… seven years now?"

  "Yes."

  "Have people treated you as second class?"

  "No, but they don't know."

  Binns' silvery face seemed to shiver. The old teacher looked kindly down at the unruly haired 'Saviour of the Wizarding world'. "Your fame could be useful, you know."

  "How?" 

  "If you admit to the world what you are, they would still see you as the Saviour of the Wizarding world. You could give shapeshifters a better name." 

  "I dunno."

  Binns smiled. "Trust me. Here's the bell."

  "What?" Harry asked. 

  The bell rang, and people began to wake up. From the desk next to Harry's, Hermione opened her eyes.  "Harry?"

  "What?"

  "We need to talk."

  "Huh?"

  "I wasn't asleep."

  Harry's green eyes widened in panic. "Shit," was all he managed, before he ran out of the classroom and along the corridors to Divination. Goddess, it was a good thing that Hermione had quit the class. He spent break sitting in a window seat chatting with Sir Cadogan and a portrait of a young wizard, who kept on flirting with him.

  However Hermione free divination was, she was still there at Lunch. Staring at him with a hurt expression.

  "Why didn't you tell us?" she asked, sitting next to him.

  "Tell you what?" Harry asked, pretending not to know.

  "Harry!"

  "What, divination fried my brain! Hey, how's SPEW going?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject. Hermione merely glared.

  "I told you, I wasn't asleep. Is it true?"

  Harry gritted his teeth, and focused all his attention on his plate. It had a chicken sandwich on it; he wondered where it had come from. "Yes," he reluctantly admitted.

  "Why did you keep it a secret?"

  "I just did, ok?"

  "What about your dad?"

  "Mooney is a wolf, Snuffles was a dog, a wolfhound, actually, and the Rat was a rat, ok? The whole animagus thing is a cover-up for an even bigger secret."

  "Clever."

  "I know. The spell was only made up because some witches wanted to try to understand us better. Did you know that?"

  "No I didn't."

  "Guess it wasn't in 'Hogwarts: A History' then," Harry said, in an attempt at a joke.

  "Harry?"

  "Mmm?" Harry asked, taking a bite out of the unexplained sandwich.

  "What was your dad? What are you?"

  Harry looked at her properly for the first time. "A panther," he whispered. "Please, don't tell anyone. Promise me!"

  "Ok, I promise," Hermione said, startled at the look in his eyes. A pleading, terrified look. "Can I see you change?" she asked, curious. A wall slammed down behind Harry's eyes, cutting off all emotion.

  "No," he said shortly, swallowing a mouthful of pumpkin juice and picking up his sandwich. He got up and headed out of the hall and into the grounds, aiming for the lake. Harry finished his sandwich under a tree, the very tree he had seen the marauders near in Snape's memories, the same tree he had often done his homework under with Ron and Hermione. Leaning against the smooth trunk of the beech, he wondered what Ron would say if he ever found out. Ron was from an old family, and could probably trace his family tree to include several links with the Harmans. His own mother was directly related, after all. But then, since the Harman's started the line, everyone was, weren't they? 

  Urgh. That meant the Dursley's were too. Good thing they hadn't had a girl, then she would be another proper Harman. But then, all the Harmans he'd heard of were nice, so maybe she would have been too. But then, Aunt Petunia was a bitch, and Maya was Hellwise's sister, by the Goddess, and from what he'd heard she was an evil bitch too. It was all so confusing! Harry thought, pouting.

  From a little to his left, a voice spoke. "You are really cute when you pout, did you know that?"

  Harry twisted to his feet in one graceful move. He tensed, the panther closer to the surface than normal, and had to make a conscious effort not to go into his half and half form. Glaring at the blond, he grated out,

  "What do you want, Malfoy?"

  "I wondered why you were so upset with Granger, actually."

  "And since when is it any of your concern what happens between my friends and I?"

  "Oh, since I found out something."

  "And what would that be?"

  "I always thought you were different, and now I believe I know the reason why."

  "What do you mean?" Harry asked but the Slytherin had already turned away.

  "Lunch is almost over," the blond called over his shoulder, making Harry look at his watch, and then start to head back to the castle. He had transfiguration next.

  After successfully evading Hermione in Transfiguration by sitting next to Neville, Harry decided to skip the trauma of dinner. Instead, he headed to the kitchens and asked Dobby for a tray.

  "Sure, Harry Potter," Dobby told him cheerfully. He was wearing a purple bobble cap and a silk kimono. The little elf bustled off and soon returned with a tray. On the tray was a mug of mulled wine, roast chicken slices, chips and peas. There was also a tiny salt and pepper set, in silver, and a miniature bottle of tomato ketchup. Harry grinned.

  "Thanks, Dobby."

  "Any time, Harry Potter Sir!"

  Still smiling, Harry left the kitchens and headed towards the Gryffindor changing rooms to eat. It wasn't the best place, but there were seats, heating, and Hermione probably wouldn't come looking for him there. All in all, it wasn't a bad changing room, nothing like the changing rooms in muggle schools, he thought, sitting on one of the benches. There were no muddy footprints on the white tiles, no smell of sweat; the house elves took care of that. The floor was magically heated in winter, and the showers were heated all the time. There was also a huge bath in the floor, which was only used after practices, never matches, as after a match, people usually celebrated. The girls had their own separate compartment, which was enspelled so that no boy could get in. It was an ok place, and there were far worse places to hide, Filtch's store cupboard being one of them. And Peeves never came to the Gryffindor changing room.

  Once Harry had finished the bulk of the meal, he sat back against the lockers and sipped at his mulled wine. He wondered if Dobby was technically allowed to give him the wine. It was fairly non-alcoholic, but still… ah well, no one will find out, he thought, smiling again at the thought of his little friend. _Just like no one found out about you?_  A voice in his head asked. Harry immediately squashed the voice, and decided to go for a swim. 

  He shrugged his robes off, revealing the leather trousers from last night. They were his favourite item of clothing, given to him by Sirius. They had been his father's. They were made from a dead 'shifter, and so changed when he did. It was always much easier to wear clothes like that, none of the  embarrassment of being naked when you transformed back. He also had a t-shirt and a jumper he could wear when he was changing, which were a present from Remus and Sirius that summer.

  A short while later, the black panther was again flowing effortlessly across the lawn. This time, it headed to the lake and jumped in, swimming powerfully and never noticing the blond form on a broom above it.

  Harry slept deeply that night, dreaming of stalking through a jungle full of hanging creepers, dripping leaves and sweet scented flowers, his paws sinking deep into the black, decomposing leaf bed and the distinctive chattering of monkeys combined with the twittering birds in his ears.

  Draco Malfoy woke up ravenous. He was aching, he couldn't breathe, and he knew that the first person he saw would be in trouble. Luckily, Blaise Zabini was already awake, half dressed in a pair of jeans and doc martins, nothing else, and saw him when he opened his curtains.

  "Gods, Draco! Sit down!" he said worriedly. "Here." Walking towards the blond, he hitched up the baggies and offered his wrist.

  "Thanks," Draco managed to gasp out, before instinct took over. His eyes shone pure silver, his lips became fuller and redder as his skin paled further and his teeth, those lovely elegant teeth, pressed against his bottom lip. He leaned forward automatically and bit delicately into Blaise's wrist.

  'Mmm blood, lovely blood, tastes so nice and rich… like cherries and chocolate and Mmm... don't want it to stop…. _No!_ what? _It's Blaise! Stop!_ Oh yeah…'

  Draco pulled away, licking his lips. "I didn't take too much, did I?" he asked, worried. Blaise was a little paler, but he still grinned.

  "No, I'm fine. Now, tell me, why were you in that state in the first place? Haven't you been drinking?" he asked, putting his hands on his hips and flicking his dreadlocks out of his eyes.

  "Um… not as much as normal," Draco admitted, turning away to get his own jeans.

  "Draco, you drink the minimum you can get away with as it is! You've been out every night, haven't you been hunting?"

  "No."

  Blaise looked confused, his hazel eyes worried. "Don't trip on me, ok man? I dunno what I'd do."

  "Ok," Draco said, smiling. He reached out and tugged one of the dark haired boy's dreadlocks. "Don't worry about me. What time is it?"

  "Breakfast. Come on, let's get you some black pudding."

  "Blaise!" 

  "I'm serious! Its blood. It may help a little, if you're refusing to feed. I can't be there all the time, and I won't be good again for a day or so," Blaise said worried, rubbing the flaming dragon tattoo on his chest with one hand as he pulled on his robe with the other.

  Draco sighed, and nodded as he pulled on his own robe. "Ok. I'll eat it."

  "Good. Now, if you weren't hunting, what were you doing?" Blaise asked as they walked along the corridors.

  "Watching."

  "Watching what?"

  "I think there's a shapeshifter in the school. And I think I know who it is."

  "There's a few 'shifters. There's a few dogs in Hufflepuff, a wolf and that falcon in Ravenclaw and that first year snake in Slytherin, plus your two stupid goons. I still don't know how no one has figure out that they are bears."

  "I know about those. Have you been watching out the window these past few nights?"

  "Um… sometimes."

  "Have you noticed the black panther?"

  Blaise stopped walking. They were one corridor away from the Entrance hall, and Draco could hear the chatter of various students. Blaise's mouth was wide open; Draco reached out with a smile and closed it. After a second, Blaise's voice began to work again.

  "There's a panther? Here? Goddess… They're powerful."

  "And that's not all."

  "There's more?"

  "Haven't you been keeping up? Galen, prince of the 'shifters, is a leopard. And his soulmate, Keller, is a black panther."

  "Are you saying this shifter may be related to the royal house?"

  "I have no idea."

  "Which house is this panther in anyway?"

  "Well, it ran out of the Gryffindor changing rooms last night."

  "Woah. Did you see who went in?"

  "Yep."

  "Who!? Don't play with me!"

  "Harry Potter."

  Blaise's legs gave out, and he sat down. Hard.

  "Holy Shit."

  From his seat at the Gryffindor table, Harry could see Zabini staring at him intently. Whenever Malfoy noticed, the dreadlocked boy earned himself what looked like a kick under the table, but each time he returned to staring. Harry was nervous, wondering what the pair was up to.

  He had no lessons that morning, and decided to go visit Hagrid. The big friendly giant was sure to keep his mind off the peculiar behaviour of those dratted Slytherins.

  He never made it to Hagrid's.

  As he passed the lake, someone leapt out behind him and slipped a hand over his mouth. "Don't worry, its not Voldie," a voice whispered. "We just don't want you to yell. Promise you won't?"

  Harry nodded, and the hand was removed.

  "What?" he asked, turning his head and finding himself face to face with Blaise Zabini. A flash of blond to his left, and he knew that the other boy was Draco Malfoy. "Why have you grabbed me? Since when have my affairs been of such great interests to you Slytherins?"

  "Since I saw a black panther running over the lawns," Draco told him quietly.

  "Shit," was all Harry could say. Hell, did everyone know his secret now?

  "Cool it, we're not going to tell," Blaise assured him. "We were just… we just wanted to talk. Or something."

  "Blaise, this was your plan," Draco drawled "you should at least have a faint idea of what you're doing."

  "I did…"

  "Then how come you haven't got a clue?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "Because… your eyes."

  Whatever Harry was expecting, that wasn't it. "Huh?"

  "They're so green, and so bright. You have amazing eyes. They make it kinda hard to talk to you," Blaise explained, on the verge of blushing as he heard Harry snort. Surprisingly, Draco backed him up.

  "Its true," was all the blond said, but it made Harry stop.

  "So… why am I here, again?" Harry asked.

  "We wondered…  did you know if you are related to the first house of the shapeshifters?"

  "Uh… I'm not sure, but I think so. Galen's great-great-grandmother was a leopard. There's quite a large chance that I'm related to her."

  "You are," Draco said quietly. "I've looked into it. She had a few children, and one of them is your great grandfather. But what we really want to know is; how come you're in Hogwarts?"

  "My mother, Lily, was a Harman. A proper Harman, descended through the female line. Pity she didn't have a daughter, really."

  "Naw, a girl wouldn't be nearly so much fun to tease," Blaise said with a grin. To his surprise, Harry found himself grinning back, more at ease with the two Slytherins than he would have believed possible. The rivalry between the two houses had become an automatic thing since Harry had defeated Voldemort in the summer between fifth and sixth year. It was a way to break the monotony of school, and at times both Harry and Draco had found themselves holding back grins of anticipation when they met in the corridors. One insult match, they had both burst out laughing as their insults became stupider and stupider. Then, this morning, the old Malfoy had seemed to reappear.

  "So… you're pretty powerful," Draco said. It was a statement, not a question. "I don't understand why you've kept your true heritage a secret. I wouldn't have known, except that I smoke up the Astronomy tower most evenings, and I've seen you running."

  "You'll drive yourself into an early grave, smoking," Harry said, still smiling slightly.

  "I wish."

  "Huh?"

  "One of the side effects of being immortal; no dying. I can smoke as much as I bloody want."

  "Immortal? Goddess, Hermione was right!"

  "What does Granger have to do with anything?"

  "Yesterday, after you made that comment about low life and allegiances, she said 'I know it's a bit far fetched, but could Malfoy be a lamia?'."

  "What did you say?"

  "Uh… 'how am I supposed to know?' but, its true, isn't it, Malfoy?"

  "Yeah, it's true, Potter. And the only reason I'm here is because Blaise has gone all 'caring best friend' on me."

  "Huh?" Harry asked, blinking.

  Blaise took over, his dark eyes sparkling. "He was so engrossed watching you, he wasn't feeding. And since he drinks the bare minimum _anyway_, well, it was a good thing I was awake before him, otherwise someone could have been hurt."

  "Huh?  Goddess, I'm saying that a lot. What do you mean?"

  "He means that I would have probably attacked someone, and then had to wipe their memories, if he hadn't seen me the minute I got out of bed, and offered his wrist," Draco said harshly.

  "Dray, I don't blame you, you can't help it, and I was happy to help you," Blaise insisted, placing his arm over Draco's shoulders.

  "Yeah, but you shouldn't have to! Gods, I hate my parents! If it wasn't for them, I could have a normal life, without having to drink the blood of my best friend to survive."

  "Its not your fault!" 

  "Yes it is! If I wasn't so _weak_," Draco spat. This was obviously an old argument, and Harry kept quiet, watching the way the two interacted. There was obviously a lot of trust between them. Blaise was trying with all his might to reassure Draco, who obviously felt excruciatingly guilty for something he couldn't help and wasn't his fault.

  "Dray, listen to me! You are not weak. You are the strongest Lamia I know! Going without blood for a long as you do, still not killing even when you are so out of it you are choking from lack of oxygen and can barely stand… Look at your parents! They kill every time they feed. They do not have the willpower to hold back. You do. You're the best friend I have; don't beat yourself up over something that isn't your fault."

  "But…" Draco protested helplessly.

  "Zabini is right," Harry told him softly. "You can help what you are, any more than I can help what I am. Its useless to rage against fate."

  Hearing this from someone who was not his friend, and therefore not lying to him to make him feel better, seemed to help Draco. He looked up at Harry with his silver-blue eyes, and smiled, albeit shakily.

 "Thanks. I needed that."

  "S'ok. Hey, I'm curious as to something…" 

  "What?" Draco asked.

  "You said something earlier about second class, and yet you're being… nice? I don't get it."

  "People were watching, we have to keep up appearances," Draco explained. "And it was all a ploy to see what your reaction was to your race being insulted. You seemed to accept it. Why?"

  "I know my history, and it's not something I'm proud of. I'm not proud of being a Shapeshifter, even one allied with the First House."

  Blaise spoke again, his hazel eyes still filled with worry for his friend, but the worry quickly being pushed aside by curiosity. "Do you think they will know you?"

  "I'm hoping not, or that they will at least be discreet enough not to give it away in front of the whole school. I'm probably going to see the Daybreakers in private anyway; I'm related to the Harmans pretty directly. I'd want to see them nevertheless, find out if they could tell me anything about my mother."

  "Oh yeah…" Blaise said softly. Draco smiled, a true smile, which was a thing that Harry saw so rarely that it struck him dumb.

  "You are such an idiot," the blond said affectionately, tugging one of Blaise's dark dreadlocks. His face turning serious again, he turned back to Harry, ignoring his friend's indignant spluttering. "I'll be seeing them too; I want to talk to Thierry, and possibly Hannah."

  "Yeah, I want to talk to Hana too," Blaise said. "Its not often you meet another old soul."

  Harry looked at Blaise in astonishment. "You're an old soul??"

  "Naw, my sis. Little sis. She's cute, and so sweet, yet really wise. She's older than I am, but she says that I know more than her. More about kindness, more about understanding  people. She's a crazy little thing, but I love her. She's going to be coming for a visit at the same time as the others, I hope. She joined the Daybreakers two years ago, and I miss her, like I miss all my family. I miss America."

  "I didn't know you were American?" Harry asked, finally placing Blaise's faint accent.

  "Yep. And I really miss it. Starbucks, Hot Topic, Zoomies…" the dreadlocked teen tailed off with a wistful sigh. "England just doesn't compare," he moaned melodramatically.

  "Enough with the theatrics, Blaise. Potter, were you going anywhere important when we captured you?"

  "Uh… Hagrid's. I wasn't expected, but I haven't been for a while."

  "You'd better get going, if you want to have time to talk to him before dinner."

  "Yeah," Harry said, the situation, in all its awkwardness, hitting him again. He found that he liked the two Slytherins; he wanted to stay and talk some more. "I'd better get going. Um… do you want to meet up again and talk sometime? Do you know any other 'shifters in school?"

  "Yeah, we know a few. Sure we can meet up again," Blaise said, smiling. "I know it seems out of character, but us Slytherins are human, you know."

  "I know. I was nearly put in Slytherin myself."

  "Y'what?!" Blaise yelped. Harry grinned.

  "Tell you about it later. Want to meet in the Library sometime?"

  "Yeah," Draco said, apparently unruffled by the astonishing news that the Gryffindor Golden Boy was nearly a Slytherin. "We could help you with Potions sometime, if you wouldn't mind helping us in Charms and Transfiguration."

  "Sounds like a plan," Harry said, preparing to twist to his feet.

  "Oh, before you go-" Draco said quickly.

  "Yeah?"

  "When we meet sometimes, if I startle you, you seem to be making a special effort not to do something. What? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I was curious. You don't do it every time, only when I take you by surprise."

  "Ah.," Harry said, shrugging off his robes to reveal the leather trousers and a tanned, muscled torso.  "Well, I try not to do this," Harry said, turning into his half-and-half form, "in the corridors. Don't want to cause a panic."

  "Woah!" was Blaise's immediate reaction. Harry's body was covered in sleek black fur, with his hands and face, and perpetual messy hair, unchanged. His ears were a panther's, and his tail lashed behind him. His pupils were slits, but his eyes still the same brilliant green, and his canines became slightly pointed, giving him the slight hint of fangs. Draco smiled appreciatively.

  "Thank you," he said quietly.

  "No problem," Harry said, changing back and slipping his robe on again. "See you around."

  Later, as he ate dinner in the Great Hall, he wondered at how easy it was to change in front of the two Slytherins. He had done so with no fear of rejection, no second thoughts, but when Hermione had asked him if she could see him change, it was a strange and terrible suggestion, fraught with danger. The idea of changing in front of Hermione or Ron seemed to go against everything he knew, everything he felt, but the idea of changing in front of Zabini or Malfoy seemed… natural. It was crazy, twisted, totally _insane_, but true. Changing in front of the Slytherins had been a release. Changing in front of Hermione would have been more like a party trick.

  Harry chewed on a mouthful of roast potato, and smiled to himself. He supposed that Voldie had fried his brain somehow. But it didn't seem a bad thing, making friends with the two Slytherins, so he might as well go with it, he decided. He just wondered what Ron and Hermione would say. It was probably better not to tell them anything, for now. Safer.

  "Are you ok, mate? You're really quiet," Ron said through a mouthful of pie.

  "I'm cool. Just thinking."

  "Thinking?!" Ron said with a mischievous grin reminiscent of Fred and George. "be careful, you don't want to hurt yourself!"

  Harry retaliated by flicking a green bean at his red-headed friend. Ron threw a chunk of potato back, and it developed into a friendly food fight, involving half the table before the teachers intervened.

  They walked up to the Gryffindor tower together, joking and laughing together, with Hermione tut-tutting at them in a motherly fashion. But her brown eyes were sparkling, and she didn't seem too annoyed with them, despite the fact that she had gravy in her hair. She left them halfway there and headed to one of the Prefect Bathrooms to wash it out, and left them to head back to the tower on their own.

  They said the password – chocolate log – and were admitted into the common room, only to find that someone – possibly the first years – had done something to fill up the room with choking black soot. Making eye contact, they nodded and charged together across the room and up the stairs, leaving a black dust trail, and a lot of coughing, behind them. As they sprinted, Harry wondered when he and Ron had got to the point when they could understand each other without talking. That would imply a lot of trust between them, yet Harry wouldn't dare to change in front of Ron… or would he? He decided to test out Ron's feelings on the subject when they got to their dorm.

  A few minutes later they were lounging on their beds eating chocolate frogs and chatting about anything and everything. Harry was feeling so relaxed and comfortable, just lying and talking with his best friend, that he decided to give it a go.

  "Hey, Ron? You know this Circle Daybreak party?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Do you mind any of the races? I mean, I don't know what you think about Lamia and stuff, we've never really talked about it."

  "Oh… Lamia are ok, so long as they don't bite me. I've got a great-great-great- however many greats it is – Grandmother and Grandfather who are Lamia. Well, Grandma is, Grandpa is a made vampire. They both look about our age. They visit occasionally. And a distant relative in America – we've kept track, they haven't – is coming, I think. Her name's Poppy, and she was dying with cancer when her Soulmate – guy called James – turned her. This was a few months ago. She looked up her heritage when she found that both she and her brother were psychic, and wrote a letter."

 [I know I'm messing with dates here, but in the books it just said that the millennium was coming, it didn't specify how much time there was left!]

  "Does she have red hair?"

  "Yeah," Ron said, grinning.

  "And what about 'shifters? A few of those are coming too. Do we have any in the school?"

  "Um… Not sure. I think there's some in the other houses, but I honestly don't know. It would be pretty cool, to turn into an animal. I'd like to meet a 'shifter."

  "You have?"

  "Huh?"

  "I was keeping this a secret, but you may as well know. My father and co. weren't animagi, they were 'shifters."

  "Woah! Really? Your Dad was a 'shifter?" Ron exclaimed, sitting up and staring at Harry in excitement. "That is so cool!"

  Harry smiled at him, and nodded. Ron grinned, and then seemed to think. "Wait a minute…" he said slowly. "If your Dad was, that makes you…?"

  "Yeah."

  "How come you didn't tell us!" Ron demanded angrily, his ears turning red.

  "I wasn't sure how you'd take it," Harry said quietly. "You might have been disgusted, or not wanted to hang around with me anymore. I kept it a secret."

  "Ok, so what's your true heritage? Now that's out, you may as well tell me," Ron said, calming down slightly and obviously making an effort to be reasonable.

  "My mother was a Harman, a proper Harman. My Dad was a shapeshifter. My Great-great-Grandmother was of the First House, and so I'm distantly related to the current Prince, Galen, who is a leopard, and his soulmate is a black Panther, same as me."

  Ron looked impressed. "That's some heritage! You're a Panther? Cool!"

  Harry grinned, and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I might have known you'd react like this."

  Ron smiled back. "Hey, does 'Mione know?"

  "Yeah… she heard me talking to Binns. Most of the teachers know now – I had to transform to defeat Voldemort."

  "Binns knew before I did? Ok, now I'm insulted. Hey, was that why you stormed out of Breakfast and didn't turn up for Lunch? Hermione?"

  "Yeah, I was avoiding her."

  "Why, exactly?"

  "She… she asked if she could see me change, like it was some party trick or something. It was probably just me, but she didn't seem to get that it's not something that I can _do_, it's what I _am_. It's a part of me, like my green eyes, my stupid hair, my damn scar. It's not something I want to show off in front of my friends. If you'd like see me change, I don't mind, but she was making it seem like an attraction at a fair."

  "I know what you mean, Hermione can be like that. Could you change, so if I see you somewhere I'll know it's you?" Ron asked respectfully, trying not to offend Harry by asking in the same way it seemed that Hermione had done. The red-head hoped that by giving a reason, it would make his request less… intruding? Harry smiled at him, and winked.

  "Sure."

  A few seconds later he had changed. He jumped onto Ron's bed and head butted him playfully, which evolved into a friendly wrestling match between the two. As they were winding down, Harry's sharp ears caught footsteps on the stairs, and he quickly turned back. By the time Dean walked in the door, they were back on the beds, talking heatedly about Quidditch.

TBC


End file.
